Spring 2005
Bella plopped down in her chair too hard. It skidded back on the slick linoleum floor, forcing her to reach out and grab the edge of the desk to stop herself from toppling backward. Then, immediately shoved her shaking hands back in her pockets.
She couldn't believe her eyes. It was him.
Bella refused to say his name, even in the safety of her own mind.
She felt the lingering stares of her classmates regarding the naked panic on her face but paid them no mind. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched one of the boys from lunch start to rise out of his assigned seat. Presumably to offer some inept form of comfort. Thankfully, before he made it to her table, the teacher called the class to order.
Like the other teachers, Mr. Banner checked attendance silently. At such a small school, the faculty had known all the kids for years. The only unknown face went with the only unknown name. Only half the teachers double-checked to see if she was, in fact, Isabella Swan. Mr. Banner was not one of them.
"Does anyone know where Mr. Cullen is?" he asked the class.
The girl with curly hair raised her hand, dutifully. "He was smoking outside during lunch, Mr. Banner."
Bella's heart froze in her chest. Were they referring to him? Her eyes slid to the empty chair beside her. He would be so close to her, their shoulders barely touching. The thought of him so close brought waves of panic—as well as flames of desire.
Up at the front of the room, Mr. Banner explained their first activity. He retracted the projector screen, revealing rows of random facts about oneself written on the blackboard.
Ice breakers.
Bella wanted to groan. She preferred the pop quiz her government teacher had given.
They were to go desk to desk, with the goal of encountering people with traits to fill an entire line or row of a grid. Bella assumed it was a last-second decision of Mr. Banner's, because there were no pre-printed worksheets. The first step of this ridiculous game was for everyone to draw a grid in their notebook and fill it out themselves.
While the other students rose and hurried to one another, Bella remained in her seat.
She didn't find it fair. Most of the students knew which one of their classmates had a lizard for a pet or had been to New York City. Since they could arrange their grid to their liking, they could fill it out to win using prior knowledge. Knowledge Bella did not possess. She was going to lose, so she saw no reason to bother trying.
Her fingers were on the buckle of her bag, ready to pull out her book, when the boy she sat next to at lunch slid into the empty seat beside her. His smile was kind, his eyes hopeful. His black hair had been slicked back by something sticky and shiny.
"Bella," he placed his hand on his chest. "Eric."
"Hi," she breathed, grateful for the reintroduction.
He got right to it, which Bella appreciated. "Have you been out of the country before?"
"No." They ran through a few more, none of which Bella could relate to.
"Okay… um… can you whistle?"
"You already have that one marked."
"Yeah, but I can switch that to you and then find something else for Lee. So, can you?"
"Not really," Bella admitted.
Giving up on Bella, Eric skimmed over her board and pointed to one of the squares, "I speak a different language at home."
"Cool, thanks," Bella said, marking the square.
She was about to ask, but Eric beat her to the punch. "Mandarin."
"I've seen a ghost," she offered, in the same spirit.
It happened back when she and her mother were joined at the hip. Though Bella was always happy to be left at home, Renee would take her on all sorts of adventures—within a two-hour driving range. Ghost tours were popular in small desert towns. To this day, Bella and Renee would say they felt the rush of heat of the ghostly bride running down the stairs, her dress engulfed in flames. Someone could argue all they felt was a warm breeze, but to Bella, it would always be Miss Emily Blanchett.
Eric snorted. "Doubt it."
Bella deflated. She preferred to believe she felt the ghost for the same reason she read books: she longed for a world greater than her own.
Eric pushed his rectangular glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Almost every ghost story can be explained away by hysteria or gas leaks…" As Eric ran down the list of every hoax, Bella wished she hadn't said anything at all. His contemptuous remarks came to an abrupt halt when the girl with the curly hair stepped behind his seat.
"Move it, Eric," she demanded.
"Sorry, Jessica." He hurried to gather his belongings as he darted away.
Jessica moved like she was balancing a crown on her head. Bella had encountered queen bee-type girls like this before. She fluffed her hair and dabbed on extra lip gloss before spreading her grid out on the table. Bella could see she had already won. She did just as Bella suspected everyone would do and arranged the squares to her benefit. Bella wondered what this girl could possibly want from her.
"Hmm…. What do I need? It's a shame Edward's not here…" She tapped the fluffy end of her pink pen to a few unmarked squares. "He would be able to fill most of these gaps…"
It was an obvious, sloppy attempt to provoke Bella, who chose to play dumb. "Who?"
Jessica grinned. She leaned in, close to Bella, like she was going to share a secret. "I get it, you know. I had the exact same reaction when I saw him for the first time."
Bella's eyes widened into full circles. Surely, Jessica couldn't have had the same experience with him as Bella did.
"I'm saying this as a friend," she began, though she and Bella were not friends, "Don't waste your time."
Bella reeled back. "Wasn't planning on it…"
Jessica didn't let Bella finish her thought. "The boy is bad news. He moved here in September. His mom didn't want to deal with him anymore and shipped him here to live with his uncle."
"What did he do that's so terrible?"
"Nothing exactly. It's not like he's committed arson. That we know of," she eyed Bella, carefully. "He doesn't talk to anyone. Shows up to half his classes. When he does show up, he sits in the back and reads."
Bella didn't want to think about how she had considered doing that herself moments ago.
"How do you know all this?"
She regretted the question as soon as it was out of her mouth, as Jessica's chin rose higher in the air. "My sister is a nurse at Fork's hospital, where his uncle is a surgeon. I get all the dirty deets through her. His uncle certainly wouldn't lie, now would he?"
Bella bit her lip. No, it didn't make sense for a functioning adult to lie. Of course, she thought the same about him at first…
"It didn't make sense how you would know if he doesn't talk to anyone."
"Lauren was partnered with him for a project once last semester. She said he only spoke when forced, didn't volunteer to meet up after class or anything. Lauren thought she was going to have to do the entire project alone, but a full week before it was due, he sent his portion of the project: complete and perfect. She was so scared he plagiarized it or bought it off someone, she did the entire thing herself, anyway. He didn't even say anything about his half being replaced on the day they presented. He just read the slides."
Bella stared ahead blankly, unsure of what to think of that. The boy she met in Alaska was so kind, so forthcoming. He would never be so careless.
Bella stopped the thought. She ground her teeth. He would be so careless. If there was one thing she knew for certain about that boy, it was that he was careless and callous and cruel.
"Yeah, it sucks," Jessica grinned, misinterpreting Bella's reaction. "A waste of a perfect face."
Mr. Banner called the class back to order, seeing that mostly everyone was done with the activity and mostly chatting.
"Who here believes they have the most completed?"
Again, Jessica was the first to raise her hand. "I do, Mr. Banner. A row and a column. And one diagonal."
Mr. Banner did not look the least bit surprised. "Alright, Jessica. Let's see it."
After Jessica was praised and claimed her award, the bell rang. Eric was immediately at Bella's side, slicking his hair back into place and asking for her schedule. Bella regretfully informed him that her final class of the day was gym. Eric's was not, but he offered to take her to the gym, anyway. If Eric didn't, someone else would take his place. Since her conversation with him was the least painful of the day so far, she plastered a smile on her face and thanked him for his help.
The horrors persisted.
First, the icebreaker, then the gym teacher ushered the class outside. Apparently, Forks High School did not consider drizzle to be indoor weather. Everyone clapped and cheered when Couch Clapp excitedly announced they would play a game of kickball.
Bella stood miserably in the muddy outfield. She hoped if she stood far enough away, no one would expect anything from her. For several rounds of kickball, it worked. As her fellow classmates ran around the bases and high-fived, Bella stood still and got wet. Near the end of class, a ball soared over her head, landing in the bushes beyond the fence. Bella stared at the rustling leaves, jaw dropped. She couldn't believe anyone could kick the rubber ball that far.
"Swan!" Coach Clapp called her attention. She flushed, feeling the eyes of her classmates land on her. "Get the ball!"
Wanting the eyes off her as soon as possible, Bella jogged slowly towards the bush. It was a mistake. Her foot caught on something hidden in the wet grass, and she tumbled to the ground. Shouts of surprise rang in the air. Bella stood, but as soon as she put any weight on her ankle, she cried out in pain and tumbled back onto the wet grass.
Bella could not believe her luck. The ball wasn't even in play and Bella suffered a sports-related injury. Reluctantly, she turned to call for aid, but her eyes landed on a figure.
It was him.
Standing on the bleachers, like he was ready to spring into action, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.
The next moment, Bella was swept up and into the air. The arms faltered for a moment but caught and steadied her.
"I got you." Bella looked into the brilliant blue eyes of a boy with blonde hair and an effortless smile. She recognized him from lunch. "You alright?"
Bella swallowed, then nodded.
His teeth gleamed white when he smiled. "That ball wasn't even in play, but you managed to get a field injury, anyway," he teased.
Bella's lips spread into an answering grin, shy and a little awkward. "I just thought the literal, same thing."
He balanced Bella's weight in his arms as he called out, "I'm going to take her to the nurse, Clapp!"
"Good man, Mike!"
Bella wanted to protest, but over Mike's shoulder, she caught a glimpse of the golden eyes that were once so familiar to her.
Bella was not normally that girl. While there was nothing wrong with girls brave enough to tease and flirt, Bella simply did not have it in her. However, Bella suddenly felt emboldened to do so. To ham up her performance and bring attention to herself. She settled into Mike's strong arms. Rested her cheek against his broad shoulder. Twisted her fingers through the blonde hair at the nape of his neck.
It certainly wasn't to benefit the boy who held her in his arms.
It wasn't because she enjoyed being under the gaze of the boy standing on the stands, though it had everything to do with him.
It was the pain that flashed in his eyes. Quick and bright and dangerous as a bolt of lightning.
Bella wanted to see it again.
Summer 2004
"Little Women."
Bella snapped the book shut. "I thought you didn't mind if I read up here."
The beautiful, bronze-haired boy leaned lazily against the railing, across the room for her. "I don't. However, I can be curious as to why you need a music shop to read."
Her summer had gone all wrong. Back in Phoenix, her mother mixed up the dates on the lease to their house. One ended in May, but the other didn't start until August. Typical for Renee. Bella knew she should have double-checked the leasing agreements, but she was too busy with finals. To make the best of the situation, Renee told Bella they would spend their summer in a land of eternal sunshine. The small coastal town of Sitka, Alaska, where the sun shined for a shocking sixteen hours a day.
What her mother didn't realize was that meant sixteen hours of functional daylight, not bright blue, cloudless skies. Bella and Renee had been in Alaska for four days so far, and the sun had not shined once. So, Bella was left in the inn while her mother waitressed in a café.
Bella wasn't sure how much of that she was willing to share with this strange boy. "It's a long story. You can just chalk it up to my bad luck."
He pushed his perfect lips forward. Bella had to look down at her lap. "Do you fancy yourself as a Jo, then? I believe she, too, lamented over her bad luck."
The question irked her as much as his reading history pleased her. "Is there something wrong with that?"
"Not at all. Jo March is one of my favorite women in literature."
Bella rolled her eyes. It seemed this boy had one personality trait. "Because romantic love was never her first priority?"
"Because she wasn't afraid to be different."
His wistful tone made Bella look up. His golden eyes were distant, his brow furrowed. Lost in thought.
"And who are you? Laurie?"
He blinked, pulled back into the conversation. "Nearly. I see myself more as a Mr. Laurence."
"The old man?" she asked, doubtfully.
A small smile toyed at the edges of his lips, as if he were enjoying his own private joke. "I'm more like an old man than you can imagine."
Bella ducked her face to hide her delight. She learned long ago that the Old Soul title she wore like laurels throughout her youth was only a polite way of saying she was a sad, strange little girl. However, it still pleased her to find a kindred soul. Especially in this boy. Bella flipped through the edges of the book with her thumb, "So, Mr. Laurence, what is your name?"
"Edward Masen." It sounded like the name of a Jane Austen character. Bella liked it. "And yours?"
"Bella Swan."
He hummed appreciatively, "That sounds like the name of a girl in a fairytale."
Bella blushed, pleased that they shared a similar thought.
"I'm reading in here because the innkeeper's face is so kind and gentle, I'm afraid I'll go on a nature walk."
The corner of his mouth kicked up into a half smile. "I'm not sure I'm following."
"I'm staying at the inn for the summer. There was a scheduling mishap, then a misunderstanding, and now I'm stuck here. I can only tolerate the same two hundred square feet for so long, so I try to go somewhere other than my room to read. The inn has a lovely lobby, but it's too public, and everyone here is too nice. Everyone wants to come up to talk. Mrs. Graham is so beautiful and kind and encourages me to join the excursions the inn offers. I'm too much of a people-pleaser. If I don't get out of there, I'm bound to say yes, eventually."
"And simply going out on the walk is..?"
"Out of the question."
"I see."
"You have to understand," Bella turned towards him, beseeching, afraid to come off as callous, "I'm a major liability. One nature walk is a hundred loose stones, dozens of raised roots, and slick, muddy grass as far as the eye can see. I don't stand a chance against those odds. I'd be lucky to only walk away with just a broken leg."
He balked.
"I have terrible balance."
"As bad as your luck?"
"Worse."
Bella was doing a great job of presenting herself as the world's unluckiest klutz in front of this stunningly beautiful, well-read boy. His perfect face was to blame for her loose lips. She never shared this much—not with anyone. It was no wonder he didn't believe in romantic love if every girl he came across was dazzled into insanity. She wanted to say something to suggest she wasn't a complete nutjob, but her traitorous mouth said, "I ran into your cassette stand."
"That crash was you?" he tilted his head to the side. "I figured it was the wind."
She spoke as if she were a glutton for punishment. "No wind can destroy anything as thoroughly and absolutely as I can."
He grinned. He held himself with such an effortless grace—the utter opposite of Bella. "I take it you're danger-prone, as well?"
Bella opened her mouth to immediately refute, but clamped her lips shut. She thought about the van that nearly hit her, then the accident at the ballet studio—even though she didn't do ballet—and finally, the close call with a couple of hooligans in the city. All during her Junior year of high school.
She was danger-prone. Despite this discovery, she said, "What makes you say that?"
His eyes lingered on the empty seat beside her. "Just a hunch."
She clutched her book in her hands. "I'm painting quite the picture of myself, then, if that's what you're able to discern."
"You're painting a lovely picture. One of a girl who puts the feelings of others before her own self-preservation to such an extent, she must extract herself from the temptation." The windchimes fluttered, announcing another customer. "I'm afraid that's my cue." He ducked his head in her direction, "Have fun with the March Girls."
The second he was out of sight, Bella flipped through the book, scouring the worn pages for specific highlighted quotes and doodles in the margins. Everything was accounted for. It was a real book in her hands. She hadn't fallen asleep. It wasn't a dream.
A well-read boy with a charming smile had, in fact, given her the sweetest compliment she'd ever received.